


Jam Yesterday

by Persiflager



Series: Jam [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflager/pseuds/Persiflager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has some suggestions about Lestrade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jam Yesterday

Sherlock stretched out naked on the bed, eyes closed, shivering pleasantly as a draft cooled the sweat drying on his skin. The air was humid and laden with the smell of sex. He could hear the late afternoon rush hour traffic jostling along Baker Street outside his window, and contemplated recording the noise to see with what degree of accuracy it could be used to tell the time.

The bathroom door swing open with a waft of steam.

“Shower’s free,” said John, his voice muffled by the towel he was using to dry his hair. 

“Mm.” Sherlock pressed the balls of his feet against the smooth wood at the foot of his bed and arched his back with a satisfied groan.

“Ah. Wallowing in the afterglow, are we?” John sounded pleased, exasperated, fond.

“No point washing when I’ll be dirty again in half an hour.”

John snorted and dropped his towel to the floor. “Half an hour?” he said, climbing into bed beside Sherlock. His skin was warm and damp. “You’re on your own there, mate.”

“Your refractory period-”

“Sod my refractory period, I’m knackered. I need a nap before we go again.” He glanced at Sherlock. “And don’t give me that look, Mr ‘I just like to lie there and take it’. ”

Sherlock made a vague noise of dissent.

John petted at Sherlock’s hip. “I don’t mind, you know.” He shuffled down under the covers and groped around until he found Sherlock’s hand. “Lazy bugger,” he mumbled, dragging Sherlock’s hand with him as he rolled over onto his side.

Sherlock obeyed the unspoken instruction and moved closer, wriggling his feet under the duvet and fitting himself loosely to the curve of John’s back. He lay still until John’s breathing slowed and he started to snore gently. Then Sherlock carefully extricated himself and escaped to the kitchen to think.

…

“Threesome,” tickled a voice in John’s ear. 

“Ssh. Sleeping.” 

“It’s perfect, it solves all our problems.”

John could smell coffee. He yawned, stretched and rolled over onto his back.

“What problems?” Cracking open his eyes, he saw Sherlock’s face inches away, staring down at him. John held still with the ease of long practice.

“Sex, John.”

“There’s nothing wrong with our sex-life. It’s fine. Brilliant, even. Have you been reading Mrs Hudson’s magazines again?”

“It could be better.”

“And you think the answer is a threesome, do you?”

“I’ve given it some thought.”

John became aware of Sherlock’s erection nudging at his hip. “So I see. Blimey. You could cut glass with that.”

“Good, I’m glad you agree.”

“Hang on a minute.” John was uncomfortably aware that Sherlock had added caffeine and a large head start to the already considerable advantage he held over John when it came to debates. He sat up a bit, pushed Sherlock gently off him, and downed the warm coffee that Sherlock had thoughtfully left on his bedside table.

Sherlock being thoughtful was another warning sign.

“Alright,” he said, sliding down back under the covers. “I’m listening.” He’d tried suggesting once that Sherlock could just say when he wanted to try something new instead of coming up with elaborate rationalisations. Sherlock had taken such offense at the insult to his scientific integrity that John had had to sleep in his own room for a week.

He could practically feel Sherlock’s beam warming his back. “Logistics,” said Sherlock, cosying up behind him. “A sexual encounter with three people has the highest potential for satisfaction returned per energy expended. Plus you crave variety in your sexual partners, which has caused issues in previous relationships when you’ve attempted to remain strictly monogamous for an extended period of time.”

“Mm. Did you have someone particular in mind?” John felt reasonably confident that anyone sane would run a mile at that offer. “Despite what you think, I’m not actually up for shagging just anyone.”

Sherlock pressed himself against John’s back, nestled his hard cock unsubtly between John’s buttocks. “Lestrade.”

“In your dreams.” John’s cock gave a traitorous twitch. “He’s straight.”

Sherlock shook his head, his hair brushing against John’s shoulder-blades. “He hasn’t but he would.” His hand stole round to John’s groin and cupped his rapidly hardening cock. “”Oh, you like that idea.”

John could feel his face warming. “What …” He cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?” No point fighting it. For all Sherlock lacked when it came to the more energetic aspects of sex, he made up for it with his dirty talk.

“So many things,” said Sherlock, thrusting tentatively against John. He reached over John and grabbed the lube before continuing. “I’d like him to fuck me, of course. You first, then he could do me while you were resting. By the time he was done, you’d be ready to go again.”  
.  
“Right.” John could feel his breathing speed up. Sherlock smeared a generous palmful of cold lube up his crack before fitting his cock back into place. Its heat was a tease and John wriggled back a little, wanting it inside him.

“Or you could suck me off while he took you, or the other way round. I wouldn’t have to lift a finger and you’d be able to get each other off.”

“That’s … very generous of you.” Guilt slithered down his spine. Oh god. They shouldn’t even be having this conversation. They were terrible, terrible people. Or Sherlock was terrible and John was weak.

He cursed his weakness with every part of him that wasn’t busy imagining Greg naked. 

“I haven’t decided which way round would be better,” mused Sherlock, stroking John’s cock expertly in time with the thick, insistent slide of his cock up John’s crack. “You’ve had more practice, obviously, and I do like looking at you when you’re being fucked. You go fantastically red, right down to your chest, did you know that? It’s terrifically arousing.”

John’s cock throbbed at the thought and he started rocking his hips - back against Sherlock’s firm erection, forward into his warm, slippery fist. “Keep going.”

“On the other hand, it might be fun for us to take him both at once while we teach him. He’s never had a cock in his mouth or his arse, I’m sure of it. Would you like that?”

John moaned and reached back to grasp at Sherlock’s firm thigh, urging him on. “Yes. Fuck. Don’t stop talking.” 

“I’d love to see the expression on his face when you finally managed to get your cock inside him for the first time. It’s quite a feeling - I remember it well. It would make it difficult for him to concentrate on sucking me but he’d try. He’d be so sweet and eager to please, I’m sure of it.”

The thought occurred that Greg almost certainly would _not_ but it was washed away as soon as it appeared by Sherlock’s low, filthy rumble. John concentrated on the pornographic montage flickering though his head - Greg fucking him roughly, Greg’s mouth stretched round his cock, Greg gasping and swearing as John pushed into him again and again and again. 

“Ah, fuck, _fuck_.” He thrust forward abortively as he came, his orgasm surging through him til his knees shook. Sherlock gripped his arse, dragged it backwards and thrust silently until he came with a grunt. 

As the last ripples of pleasure receded, shame seeped in in its place. John squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t believe we just did that. I’m never going to be able to look Greg in the eye again.”

“Over half of the scenarios I’ve considered can be enacted without direct eye contact.”

John swatted half-heartedly at Sherlock’s thigh.

“So that’s a yes, then.” 

“It’s an ‘I’ll think about it’.” John straightened out, wrinkling his nose at the stickily familiar combination of come and lube between his buttocks. “But listen, if I do decide yes, you have to let me talk to him. You can’t just leap out and proposition him.”

Sherlock kissed his shoulder. “Of course, John.”


End file.
